Never Seduce a Sheikh (International Bad Boys Book 2) (6 page)

Isma’il lowered his head to her ear again. “I am not mistaken.”

She didn’t acknowledge what he’d said. She carried on talking.

But he would not let her pretend nothing had happened this time.

Interrupting the conversation with an easy grace, he excused both himself and Lily. Then, he firmly pressed his palm to her back and steered her towards a small open hallway that led off the main ballroom.

She didn’t want to go; he could read her reluctance in every line of her body, but it only made his anger burn hotter. What did she think he was going to do to her? He wasn’t a monster. Not like Khalid.

As they entered the hallway, a vast potted palm shielding them from the rest of the ballroom, she turned on him, folding her arms across her breasts. “Why did you interrupt that conversation? It was important.”

He ignored her. “You are lying to me, Lily Harkness.”

“I’m sorry? What exactly am I supposed to be lying about?”

“You pretend my touch does not affect you.”

“It’s not pretense. It doesn’t affect me.”

“If it didn’t affect you, then why did you shrug my hand off your shoulder just now?”

Color burned in a stripe across her cheekbones and yet her expression remained utterly neutral. “Did I? I didn’t even notice your hand.”

Oh, no. He wasn’t having that.

Isma’il stepped forward, getting right up close to her. Close enough to see the subtle gold flecks in the darkness of her eyes. Feel the heat from her body in its beautiful golden dress. Smell the fresh, cut-grass scent of her perfume.

She didn’t back away. Didn’t hesitate to meet his gaze. Strong and determined to deny him.

The dark hunger began to rise, the need to test her strength and match it. Push it as far as it would go. He had to fight the urge to crowd her against the wall. Overwhelm her. Force the truth from her.

“You are afraid of me,” he said, unable to keep the harsh edge from his voice.

A flash of hot temper glowed in her eyes as if the accusation had insulted her. “Afraid of you? Why the hell would I be afraid of you?”

“My father’s reputation was well known and thoroughly deserved. You would not be the first person to assume I am cut from the same cloth.”

“You give yourself far too much importance, Sheikh. The thought hadn’t even crossed my mind.”

But she was lying, he knew it. Sensed it.

Isma’il stepped even closer, watching her as she took an unconscious step back, coming up against the wall. “If you are not afraid, then why did you back away from me just now?”

Her cheeks colored. Then, unexpectedly, she pushed herself away from the wall so they stood toe to toe, the warm length of her perfect body nearly against his. “I. Am not. Afraid. Of you,” she said, enunciating each word slowly and clearly.

He knew then that fear wasn’t something she would ever acknowledge. For some reason, she was hell bent on denying it, too determined and too strong to give in. Too bad. Because he had to know. He had to have the truth from her.

Isma’il looked down into her eyes. “Then perhaps you will be afraid of this.” Lifting a finger, he touched her mouth, running his fingertip along her lower lip, tracing the gentle curve. It felt so soft. He wanted to push down on it, open her mouth up to him so he could kiss her. Taste her.

Lily took a ragged breath, the sound sharp. Her eyes had gone black in the light of the hallway, her expression like a mask. Then, her cool self-possession cracked, a glimpse of heat like a solar flare lighting her face. A glimpse of the passion burning beneath the surface of the poised CEO.

He nearly bent his head then. Nearly took her mouth, the darkness inside him roaring for it. Wanting more than a touch. More than a kiss. Wanting her naked, on her knees in front of him.

Behind him someone laughed, the murmurs of conversation near the hallway where he and Lily stood. The sound made him aware of where he was. Of what he was doing.

Shock slid icy fingers along his skin. How had a simple question become a sensual test of wills? He was supposed to be making a decision about Harkness Oil’s suitability for the oil rights, not touching its beautiful CEO in a public hallway.

This woman pushed him. Called the animal too close to the surface. Called to the darkness that tainted him. A darkness he’d let loose once. It could never happen again.

Isma’il dropped his hand, stepped away. This was an easy decision to make after all.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Harkness,” he said. “I’m afraid that your company is no longer in the running for Dahar’s oil rights.”

*     *     *

Lily’s mouth burned.
Everything burned. She felt hot and restless and furiously angry. With him for assuming she was afraid of him. With herself for betraying the truth.

Because he was right, she
was
afraid. But not of him. Perhaps she should have been given the rumors about his father, yet she’d discovered as he’d stepped close to her, that it was herself she was more afraid of. Of her response to him. Of the way her whole body had gathered tight with a need she’d never felt in her entire life.

And now, that fear fed her anger at him for changing his mind.

“What do you mean, no longer in the running?” She tried to find her cool from somewhere and failed.

Isma’il had moved farther away from her, his hands in his pockets. The lazy charm had gone, his features granite hard and very, very cold.

“I believe I was clear.”

“We’re not going to the desert?”

“
You
are not going to the desert.”

She didn’t miss the emphasis. “You can’t do that,” she said forcefully. “I did exactly what you wanted me to do. I turned on the charm. I made the small talk. I smiled and put up with the intrusive questions about my private life. And I got them on-side. You can’t change your mind. You can’t.”

“I can and I have.”

The anger spilled out, burning away her careful control. “Why?” She came close to him, confronting him. “Because you think I’m afraid of you? Why should that even matter?”

A raw blue flame leapt in his eyes. “Khalid shattered this country. Make no mistake, he nearly broke Dahar completely. People remember that. They remember him. And they remember that I am his son.” His gaze burned into her. “So what do you think they see when you recoil from me after a simple touch? They see fear. Fear of me.”

Lily took a breath. It seemed her lapse back there in the ballroom had been unforgivable in more ways than one. “But it should be obvious that you’re not your father.”

“Not to them. The memories are too recent. Too raw. I cannot afford for them to doubt me. Not even a shadow.”

She swallowed back her anger. Swallowed back her fear. “It won’t happen again. I give you my word.”

“Your word is not enough. The desert tribes were treated especially harshly by Khalid and so I must be even more sensitive to their needs. If you were to react to me out in the desert the way you reacted to me tonight . . . ” He stopped but she didn’t need him to finish. She knew exactly what he meant.

“I won’t,” she said, putting all her determination, all her certainty into the word. “I promise you that will not happen again.”

“You promise? That will not be—”

“You need me, Sheikh,” she interrupted in a soft, fierce voice. “You need Harkness and you know it. None of those other companies can give your people what we can. None of those companies can give your people what they need. You want to heal your country? Then Harkness can help you do that.”

He wouldn’t say no. She wouldn’t let him. She wouldn’t let a man take another victory from her. Ruin it, like Dan had ruined her gold medal win.

For a long second Isma’il stared down at her, the expression on his face completely impenetrable. Then he said, “We leave at nine tomorrow morning. Be ready.”

A
s the four
wheel drive bounced over the hard packed surface of the rough and rocky desert road, Isma’il turned his head to check on the woman sitting beside him. Even with the air-conditioning on full bore, Lily had a flush to her cheeks, tendrils of blonde hair sticking out from under the blue headscarf she wore plastered to her damp forehead.

Yet even in the heat of the desert, she’d lost nothing of her poise.

Unlike the night before, when she’d faced him down about his decision not to take her to meet with the tribes. Oh no, last night she’d been furious with him, her anger hot and dark in her brown eyes. Before morphing into fierce determination, as she tried to change his mind.

And change it, she had. Because, as much as he didn’t particularly want to admit it, he couldn’t ignore the benefits that Harkness offered his people. Benefits that were about more than handfuls of cash or mentions of ‘trickle-down.’

You want to heal your country. Harkness can help . . .

She understood in a way the other companies hadn’t and that tipped the balance. Made her important to Dahar. No, not important. Vital. And no matter how much she pushed him or tested him personally, it was Dahar he had to think of. Dahar’s needs he had to put first.

Beside him, Lily pushed back her headscarf and shook out the blonde ponytail she’d put her hair into, mopping her forehead with the scarf.

“Do you need anything?” he asked. “You must make sure to stay hydrated.”

She gave him an impatient look. “Believe it or not, I have actually been in the desert before. I know the drill.”

“Have you indeed?”

“Yes, we have a few in Australia.” Her tone was dry. “You may have heard of them.”

Amusement slid through him. “Careful, Ms. Harkness. You should know better than to tease royalty.”

“I never tease, Sheikh. It’s a rule.” She glanced out the window. “I have to say, this is a beautiful place. Do you come out here often?”

Actually he hadn’t been in the desert since he’d returned to Dahar. And before that . . . No. He would not think of that. There were too many memories. Bad memories. “Not as often as I should.”

“Should?”

“A prince must keep in touch with all his people and that includes the desert tribes. Sheikh Khalid did not treat them with respect and so I have to make sure I do not do the same.”

A small silence fell and he became aware of her dark, level gaze on him. Studying him. He turned to meet it. “See something that interests you?”

She didn’t look away or respond to the faint taunt. “The rumors about your father . . . Were they true?”

Tension pulled tight inside him but he ignored it. “The rumors? Yes, they were true. All of them. He was a violent, abusive bastard. And that is being kind.”

The expression in Lily’s dark eyes didn’t change. “Is that why you’re selling the oil then? Because Sheikh Khalid kept the reserves locked up for years?”

He didn’t miss the way she named him Khalid and not ‘your father’ and he liked that she’d done so. Had that been deliberate?

“You seem very interested in my motivations. Any particular reason?”

“Because, knowing as much as I can about a situation is the way I do business. Knowledge is power.”

Oh she was astute, this woman. And perceptive. Far too perceptive. “This is true.” He paused. “If you’re asking whether selling Dahar’s oil is some kind of knee-jerk response to Khalid, then no, it is not. I am selling Dahar’s oil because of the benefits it will bring to my country. Jobs. Better health care. Better schooling.”

Lily’s dark eyes didn’t waver. “How can they think you’re like him?”

The tension pulled tighter in his gut. “As I told you last night, Khalid left scars on Dahar. Scars that will take years to heal.”

“Surely they can’t imagine you’ll be the same?”

“They fear it.”

Lily frowned. “But that’s ridiculous. Just because you’re his son, doesn’t mean you’ll end up being a tyrant too.”

Ah, but she had no idea. No idea about the dark part of him, the little piece of Khalid that had taken root in his soul. The part that had to be controlled. And some of the older people of his court, the ones who had been here when he’d been a child, they’d heard the rumors about him. They knew about that part too.

Isma’il gave her a smile, the charming mask. “No, of course it does not. But, it is a fact they will measure me by.”